


you can build your kingdom in my heart

by quiddative



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Curses, Fabled Voltron: A VLD Fairytale Exchange 2019, Fairy Tale Elements, Happy Ending, M/M, Magic, Mates, One-Sided Lance/Lotor (Voltron), Romance, Shapeshifting, Werewolf!Shiro, Werewolves, Witch!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 18:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiddative/pseuds/quiddative
Summary: You must never run with wolves, Lance's grandmother had once warned. Once they’ve sunk their claws into you, you’ll never come back home.Or: Lance runs away from a fate worse than death, and finds salvation in a mysterious wolf and a handful of inhabitants at the old Shirogane manor.





	you can build your kingdom in my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MatchaMochi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatchaMochi/gifts).

> Hi jaja! I'm sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy! I tried to incorporate as many elements of your prompt into this as I could, but as soon as I read the word "werewolves," my muse went haywire and this was the result. 
> 
> Thank you to all the mods of the exchange for organizing this and to [SuccubustyKisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubustyKisses) especially for patiently answering all my questions. 
> 
> Again, I hope you enjoy! ♥ ♥

It takes Lance two days to find the black wolf.

_Or rather_, he suspects, _for the wolf to_ let _itself be found._

The wolf is so still and its fur so dark that it takes Lance’s eyes a few moments to fully take in its massive size. Its head comes up to Lance’s chest, which puts its jaw—and therefore its fangs—right at his heart.

Even if Lance hadn’t grown up on his grandmother’s tales of the Shirogane clan and their beasts, bound by the gods to protect the woods bordering Lance’s village since men first set foot on this land, it’s clear from the creature’s gait and heavy presence that this isn’t an ordinary wolf.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” says Lance, clenching his fingers over the white handkerchief tied around his left wrist.

The wolf doesn’t move an inch. Somehow, Lance knows it understands him.

Keeping his eyes on the wolf, he reaches into his rucksack, rummaging through his clothes before his fingers close around the talisman he spent all of last week making. It’s a simple witch’s charm—a wood-beaded necklace with common protection runes carved into each bead. It won’t protect its bearer from serious harm, but at least whoever wears it won’t have to worry about stubbed toes.

It also helps that it’s infused with some of Lance’s magic—_witch magic_, worth a thousand times more than a hundred seasons’ good harvest.

“I come to Lord Shirogane requesting sanctuary,” Lance continues. “And I offer this in exchange.” He doesn’t dare look away as he lowers the charm onto the ground between himself and the wolf before backing away.

Gunmetal silver eyes gaze back at Lance, nearly glowing beneath the thick shade of the ancient trees towering above them. There’s a haunting familiarity to them, like a childhood lullaby, but one that Lance can’t quite place.

The wolf steps forward to sniff the talisman.

Several heartbeats pass, and Lance is beginning to wonder whether he should just make a run for it, before the wolf snatches the talisman up in its mouth and jogs away.

“Oi! Is that a ‘yes’?” Lance calls out, stumbling on tired feet that have been walking non-stop for the last couple of days as he darts after the wolf.

If Lance had any hopes of finding his way back out of the woods after this, he discards them as the wolf leads him deeper and deeper into the forest. Further away from what little sunlight has managed to pierce through the trees.

_You must never run with wolves_, his grandmother had once warned. _Once they’ve sunk their claws into you, you’ll never come back home._

It feels like they’ve been running for hours, but it must have only been a few minutes, when they round the next bend and the wolf comes to a sudden stop. Lance nearly trips over its massive tail. “Hey! I still haven’t gotten a proper answer—”

He shuts his mouth with an audible ‘click!’ when his gaze lands on the vast manor house in front of them. He knows, without even having to glance at the rotted sign hanging by the iron gates, that this is the Shirogane Manor.

* * *

Two nights ago, as Lance packed his rucksack in secret while everyone in the village was occupied with preparations for the Earl’s arrival, he recalled something else his grandmother had said: “_Beware the woods. There are dark and beautiful things in there, things with claws and fangs._”

_Well, compared to what’s waiting for me if I stay here any longer, I’d rather take my chances with the things in the woods_, Lance thought as he wrapped his handkerchief around his wrist and tied the ends into a secure knot. The insignia of a wolf stared back at him. _Besides, they’re not the only ones with claws and fangs._

* * *

A dark-haired boy around Lance’s age is waiting for them when they enter the grand hall. His eyes, their colour an unnatural palette of amethyst and indigo, are narrowed in a glare, and his arms are crossed over his broad chest. “Who the hell are you?” he growls.

The wolf responds with a commanding bark, causing the boy to blink and drop his arms. Lance reaches down to pet the wolf.

Hey, he figures that if it hasn’t attacked him yet, and even took the time to lead him to its master’s home, then he should be safe. Probably. “Um, is that any way to speak to your guest?”

“Guest?”

“Yeah, guest—which is what I am if the way your Lord’s familiar accepted my offering was any indication.” He turns to the wolf with a raised eyebrow. “I mean—that _is_ why you brought me here, right?”

The wolf’s tongue lolls out, exposing the talisman still in its mouth. Like this, it looks more like a sweet, if unnaturally large, puppy than the fearsome wolf it really is.

Not even the angry scar running across its snout can keep Lance from thinking, _Adorable_.

Lance grins. “I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes’.”

The boy is still staring at them. At least he doesn’t look as snarly as he had been earlier.

“Sooo, where _is_ your Lord, anyway?” Lance continues, making a show of twisting his head around to inspect the hall.

The boy coughs and levels a pout at the wolf, who ignores him in favour of Lance’s scratches. Lance ducks his head to hide his smile. “He’s...occupied at the moment,” the boy grits out. “I’ll make sure he’s aware of your presence.”

The wolf huffs and nudges Lance towards the staircase. “Uh, where are you taking me?”

“_He_ is taking you to your new chambers,” the boy drawls. “What, you thought we were going to make you sleep on the floor or something?”

“Honestly, I hadn’t thought much about what was going to happen beyond getting here,” Lance admits as he passes the boy and begins to ascend the stairs. _Although, I was hoping to see_ him _again_, he thinks, wistful.

The boy looks right at the wolf as he snorts, “Please, we’re not _animals_.”

* * *

Lance was ten years old when he got lost in the woods.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to play there—_everyone_ knew that—but one of Marco’s friends had double dog dared him to go into the woods at dusk and there was no way Lance was going to refuse that.

He was supposed to only stay there for ten minutes, but by the time he started heading back the way he came, it had gotten dark, so dark that Lance could barely see his own hand in front of him. His stomach twisted into tight knots—he couldn't find the path that led back to the village.

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he curled up in a ball at the base of an old gnarled tree and wondered what it would be like to die.

“You’re not going to die,” came a voice from his right.

Lance whipped his head around towards the source of the voice. There, standing on top of one of the tree’s massive roots, was the shape of a boy who was about a head taller than Lance. “How’d you know what I was thinking?” Lance demanded, wiping furiously at his face. He didn’t need another one of Marco’s friends to see him crying like a baby.

“Because I heard you say that out loud,” said the boy, hopping down from the root as fleet-footed as a rabbit.

“Did I?”

The boy drew closer and, for one brief moment, Lance could have sworn his eyes glowed silver. _Like a pair of twin moons_, Lance thought.

“You did,” said the boy, white teeth flashing as he grinned. “You’re from Baku, right? It’s not far from here—I can take you back.”

“You’re not just saying that so you can lead me to your lair to kill and eat me, are you?” Lance squinted up at the boy. He’d never seen him before and the halting way ‘Baku’ rolled on his tongue told Lance that he wasn’t from the area. That meant he was a stranger and Lance’s parents always told him to be wary of strangers.

Especially strangers from the woods.

The boy’s nose wrinkled. “Why would I do that?”

“Maybe ‘cause you might be a monster?”

The boy threw his head back and laughed. It was a nice sound, making Lance think of birds’ wings fluttering in the wind. “Me? A monster? Nah, my family eats monsters, but we’re nothing like them.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and I’ll protect you from any we come across, because that’s what my family does, too. It’s our job to protect the people on our land.” The boy bent down and extended his hand.

“You promise?” Lance asked, because he knew, even then, that there was power in promises.

“I promise,” said the boy.

Lance took his hand; it was smooth, unlike that of all the men and older boys in the village, but warm.

“I’m Lance,” he said.

“Hi, Lance, my name’s Takashi Shirogane, but you can call me Shiro.”

* * *

It turns out that the boy Lance met yesterday is called Keith, and he’s not the only person living in the Manor.

After being dragged down to a chaotic but cozy kitchen for breakfast the next morning by the wolf, Lance discovers there’s a cook with an incredibly long name Lance can barely remember, but he simply tells Lance to call him Hunk. There’s also a pair of siblings—a brother and sister called Matt and Katie, although Katie prefers to go by ‘Pidge’ instead.

“Is there anyone here who goes by their actual name?” Lance jokes.

A girl’s silky voice replies from over his shoulder, “You should know as well as I do that names have power.”

The girl comes around the table to sit next to Lance and his jaw drops. She’s easily one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen in his life—she has diamond white hair that falls all the way down to her hips, strong shoulders that not even the loose pink tunic she’s wearing can hide, and her eyes—

As soon as he meets her gaze, he knows; she’s a witch, too.

The witch smiles and holds her hand out. “Allura. How do you do?”

“L-Lance,” Lance manages to stutter out. “I—”

A low growl from beneath the table interrupts him. He glances down to find the wolf baring his fangs at Allura, but in a way that reminds Lance of an annoyed dog rather than a predator. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the wolf might even be _moping_.

Allura’s smile widens and she leans down to squeeze the wolf’s ear, earning a whine from the poor thing. “Looks like _somebody’s_ jealous,” she coos.

“What, of me?” Lance blinks. “But we just met yesterday.”

Allura arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him. At her back, Matt and Pidge exchange looks that hold entire conversations. “The Lord’s..._familiar_ is very territorial,” says Allura. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite.”

“Not unless you ask him to,” Pidge mutters.

This time, the wolf turns his glare on Pidge, but softens when Lance scratches his head. “I dunno, he seems pretty friendly to me.”

The wolf shifts, rolling to his side and exposing his stomach to Lance. It’s then Lance notices his charm wrapped around the wolf’s neck, a collar of sorts. “That’s supposed to be for your Lord, you know,” he scolds, but he knows his voice comes out more fond than disapproving.

The wolf has barely left his side since they found each other yesterday. A part of Lance thinks he should be more wary of being the object of this much attention from a supernatural creature, but his instincts tell him that he can trust this wolf, as weird as it may sound.

“Trust me, Lord Shirogane doesn’t mind,” Allura tells him.

“Speaking of which, _will_ I ever get to meet my gracious host?” Lance asks, cocking his head to the side.

There’s that look between Matt and Pidge again.

“Lord Shirogane is...a very busy man,” says Allura, biting her lip. “But rest assured, he’s happy to have you here.”

“And he wants you to know that you can come to any of us if you ever need anything. Anything at all,” Hunk pipes up.

“Oh,” says Lance, the sour, bitter taste of disappointment filling his throat. For all of Hunk and Allura’s assurances, he can’t help but think that Lord Shirogane is deliberately avoiding him.

Meanwhile, the wolf curls up closer around his leg, as if establishing his claim.

* * *

When Lance and Shiro reached the edge of the woods, what seemed to be the entire village was out with torches. In the distance, Lance spotted his Mama and grandmother huddled together, calling his name.

“See? I promised I’d get you home,” said Shiro, bumping against Lance’s shoulder. They were still holding hands and Lance...Lance didn’t want to let go.

Shiro was so different from the other boys in the village. Kinder, more soft-spoken, and he listened to everything Lance said without laughing at him even once. It made Lance’s heart stutter.

The last person who provoked anything close to this kind of reaction from Lance was Nyma, and that lasted all of two days, before he saw her giving Rolo a kiss on the cheek.

Shiro let go of his hand and ruffled his hair. “Come on, you don’t want to make your family worry any longer.”

“But what about _your_ family?” Lance insisted, fixing his eyes on Shiro. Under the light of the rising half moon and distant torches, he could see that Shiro’s hair was as black as coal.

Shiro gave him a secretive grin that spoke of an inside joke only he knew. “Don’t worry, they know exactly where I am.”

“_Lance!_”

Lance whirled around to find his entire family running towards him, as if he’d been gone for years rather than an hour. Before he knew it, his own feet were pounding towards them. Dad swept him up in a tight hug and the rest of the family followed suit, crying about how worried they had been.

When Dad finally set him back down on the ground, Lance glanced back over his shoulder to where Shiro was—

Only, Shiro wasn’t there anymore. There was no sign he’d ever been there at all.

Later, after the doctor examined Lance and determined that he was fine (and, more importantly, _not_ possessed), the village elders asked him what had happened. Did he see anything strange in the woods? How did he find his way out?

After all, it was rare for someone to come back from the woods; rarer still for someone to come back _alive_.

_I followed the moonlight_, said Lance. Even then, he knew better than to let on to the adults that he hadn’t been alone.

But Lance never forgot about Shiro, the kind, silver-eyed boy in the woods who kept his promise to bring Lance back to his family.

* * *

There is something that Lance isn’t being told.

He can see it in the way Keith clams up whenever Lance brings up the subject of Lord Shirogane (whom he _still_ has yet to meet), how the Holt siblings start talking loudly about something else whenever Lance does the same with them, and how Allura’s lips purse and her magic grows thorny whenever Lance mentions anything vaguely connected to Manor and its Lord.

Hunk is the only one who takes pity on him when he asks about the Shirogane family outright. “There...was an attack about two years ago,” he explains one evening after dinner. Lance is helping him wash the dishes because his Mama raised him better than to be an ungrateful guest. The wolf is currently slumbering by the fire. “Shi—_Lord_ Shirogane was the only survivor, but he was...badly wounded.”

“Is he…”

“Oh, don’t worry, he got better.” Hunk waves Lance’s concern away. “Well, for the most part. He’s just...kinda sensitive about his injuries.”

Filing Hunk’s cryptic words away for now, Lance presses, “What attacked them?”

“A rival clan,” Hunk hisses, with so much biting hatred in his voice that Lance has to blink. In all the time he’s known Hunk, the cook never so much as raised his voice at anyone, not even when Pidge and Lance made a complete mess of the kitchen during a spontaneous food fight a few days ago.

“Their alph—_leader_, Sendak, wanted the Shirogane family to swear allegiance to him, but they refused,” Hunk continues. “He didn’t like that.”

“What happened to the other clan?”

“Allura took care of them.” The dark tone of Hunk’s voice tells Lance all that he needs to know.

But the damage had been done. Whatever that clan had done still lingers around the house like a rotting wound. It’s dark magic—the kind he’d only ever heard whispers about.

* * *

Lance was finally allowed to join the village’s annual masquerade when he turned sixteen...and he couldn’t even enjoy it.

Because, sitting on the other side of the table and watching him with a hungry glint in his eyes, was Lord Lotor, heir to the Earlship of Daibazaal.

“Just ignore him and come dance with us,” Veronica whispered from behind her badger mask, tugging him out of his seat and into the circle of their agemates surrounding the bonfire.

Lance groaned but followed his sister anyway, flipping his silver fox mask down over his face. “What’s the point? It’s not like anyone’s going to actually ask me to dance, not when that _snake_ is right there.”

He knew he was being whiny, but it was also very telling when Veronica could only purse her lips in response. Lotor had as good as staked his claim over Lance when he visited Lance’s home with a marriage contract in hand, nevermind that, in keeping with the country’s laws, they had to wait until Lance’s eighteenth birthday before they could actually wed. Lance _could_ have rejected his proposal, but he wasn’t naive enough to believe that Lotor wasn’t going to retaliate in some way.

Lance’s fate was sealed and everyone here knew it.

Still, more for his family’s sake than his own, Lance tried to enjoy himself. He danced with both of his sisters twice and tried to pretend he couldn’t feel Lotor’s oppressive gaze boring into his back.

He finished his second circuit with Rachel and was just about to offer Veronica his hand when someone tapped his shoulder. He steeled himself; judging by the way Veronica’s eyes widened through the slits of her mask, he fully expected to find Lotor standing behind him when he turned around—

Only, it wasn’t Lotor. It was a dark-haired man wearing a blue wolf mask. Unlike Lance’s mask, which only covered the top part of his face, leaving his jaw exposed, this man’s mask covered his entire face.

Except for his eyes. Eyes that seemed to glow silver in the moonlight...

The man placed his left hand over his abdomen, his right hand outstretched towards Lance, and bowed, keeping his back ramrod straight. It was a nobleman’s bow. “May I have the honour of this dance?” The man’s deep voice curled in Lance’s stomach like warm tea, regal like Lotor’s yet far more inviting.

It also sparked something else within Lance—a memory.

_Like a pair of twin moons._

“Yes,” Lance blurted out before he could think better of what he was doing, of what this could mean for him. He grabbed the stranger’s hand and led him closer to the bonfire (and further away from Lotor).

Their fellow dancers parted obligingly for them, but now Lance felt the pinpricks of _their_ nosy stares on top of Lotor’s. _What is that McClain boy up to now?_, he could almost hear them whisper to one another.

Then, the stranger raised Lance’s free hand to his shoulder and brought his own hand to the small of Lance’s back. Lance tipped his head up, noticing for the first time that the stranger was half a head taller than him. “Don’t worry about them,” the stranger whispered. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

“Not a problem,” Lance’s mouth replied before his brain could catch up. His cheeks burned, but the stranger let out a laugh that made Lance feel as if his heart had sprouted wings.

As they danced, little by little, Lance forgot about the spectacle they made. He never took his gaze off the stranger once and the stranger returned the favour with an intensity that Lance didn’t know could exist in a man. It made him feel treasured in a way not even Lotor with his hefty riches and honeyed promises of luxury could measure up to.

The stranger dipped Lance and leaned over until their cheeks brushed, and said, “I apologize for my forwardness, but I—”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Lance cut in. “You’re the one who found me in the woods all those years ago. Shiro.”

Shiro said nothing as he set Lance back on his feet. He twirled Lance in a circle, never once letting go of his hand, before bringing Lance back to him. “I didn’t think you’d remember me,” Shiro admitted.

“You _are_ kind of hard to forget, being my hero and all,” Lance teased, poking at Shiro’s mask. He coaxed a bit of his magic into the touch, creating a small shower of sparks. “Have you devoured any good monsters lately?”

Against the deep orange glow of the fire, Lance could see Shiro’s eyes crinkle in a smile. “Here and there. You haven’t been wandering the woods lately, have you?”

“Is that an invitation?”

Shiro leaned in, bringing their chests together. This close, Lance could just barely feel his heartbeat—a steady, soothing rhythm. “If you want.”

All around them, the villagers danced on.

* * *

“We need to tell him, _Milord_,” comes Allura’s voice from the other side of the door to the library a few days later.

Lance shoots up in his chair, the book he’d been reading lying forgotten on the table in front of him.

There is no response from Lord Shirogane, not one that Lance can hear, but he must have said _something_, because Allura continues, “He’s not stupid, you know. He’s going to figure out that something’s not right eventually, if he hasn’t already.”

Again, silence.

Then, Allura lets out a sigh, heavy with frustration. “He can _help_ you!”

_Help with what?_ Lance frowns. Casting a quick spell over the stones to mute his steps, he slinks closer to the door.

Allura continues, oblivious, “He has _magic_—strong magic, too. Surely you can feel it?”

Lance’s own magic flares up a little at her words, pleased.

Allura’s voice begins to drift away from the door until Lance can no longer hear her. He waits by the door for a few more moments, but there’s nothing. With a sigh, he returns to his seat, Allura’s words echoing in his head.

There’s something going on with Lord Shirogane, and he doesn’t want Lance to know about it. Moreover, it’s something that Allura thinks his magic can help with.

Lance doesn’t get the sense that it’s something too serious, though. Otherwise, he’s pretty sure the others would have spilled the beans already. If there’s one thing he’s certain of, it’s that every single person who lives in this Manor would give their life to Lord Shirogane.

The door creaks open, followed by the familiar soft _tap-tap_ of the wolf’s paws against the stone and the clatter of Lance’s talisman. Seconds later, the wolf’s head drops onto Lance’s lap and gazes up at him with a curious whine.

Lance laughs and scratches the wolf’s head. “Hey there, I was wondering where you were.”

The wolf chirps at him, but, predictably, doesn’t have an answer for him.

Lance sags against the chair as he continues petting the wolf. “So, it looks like that Lord of yours has a secret.” The wolf makes a soft snuffling sound and pushes his nose against Lance’s left palm, rubbing his head right up against his handkerchief. “That’s okay, I know all about secrets.”

The wolf’s cloudy eyes bore into him, giving Lance the impression that he understands more than he lets on. Lance lets out a dry chuckle, “You ever heard of Lotor? Son of Zarkon, the Earl of Daibazaal?” Lance’s brows furrow together as he recalls the very first time he met Lotor; his voice dripping with condescension, his sharp mouth curled into a conceited smirk, and his golden eyes—they were the eyes of a predator assessing their prey.

“He’s my fiancé.”

The wolf stiffens, but only for a heartbeat. Lance ignores it as he continues brushing the wolf’s coat. “Not by choice, mind you. Well, not _my_ choice.” Lance sighs again, feeling like one of those lovesick heroines in those books Luis secretly adores. “He came to my village a couple years ago looking for a bride and—well, I guess he found me.”

* * *

“Come with me,” said Shiro later that night. Lance had lost track of how long they’d danced together, but he could feel Lotor’s furious gaze burning at his back. Frankly, he couldn’t care less.

Because Shiro was _here_. After clinging onto the memory of the boy who rescued him six years ago, Lance could finally see and _touch_ him again.

And Shiro was going to rescue him again, this time from something far more frightening than some shadows of the woods.

“But my family…” Lance trailed off, glancing guiltily at his parents and siblings.

“They can come with us,” Shiro added without any hesitation whatsoever. “My family will protect them.”

“You promise?” asked Lance, echoing his own words from all those years ago.

Shiro nodded. “I promise.”

He stopped, putting a halt to their dancing for the first time all night. He reached into his pocket and produced a simple white handkerchief. Lance caught a glimpse of a wolf’s head gazing up at him as Shiro tied the material around his left wrist. His touch was so warm and gentle, nothing like Lotor’s cold, hard grip.

“Please accept this as a token of my promise. If you’ll have me—”

A distinct howl cut through the air, its sharp note freezing everyone where they stood. This wasn’t the first time the Shirogane wolves made themselves known to Baku village, but it was the first time Lance had heard them sound so _distressed_.

“Everyone, to the meeting house, _now!_” Chief Iverson barked, snapping everyone out of their daze.

Hundreds of feet began stampeding towards the meeting house in the centre of the village. No one needed to be told twice.

_Beware the woods. There are dark and beautiful things in there, things with claws and fangs._

“Come, Lance,” Lotor’s voice called out, but the man might as well have been miles away for all that Lance cared.

Lance turned back to Shiro, only to find him staring in the direction of the woods with an eerie stillness that could not be human. “Shiro?” Lance whispered.

Shiro jolted. “Lance,” he breathed, coming back to himself. His hands were shaking in Lance’s grip. “I...I have to go.” He was already pulling away.

Lance squeezed his hand. “Come back to me,” he begged, imbuing as much of his magic into the words as he could. A prayer to the gods themselves.

Shiro nodded, raising the back of Lance’s left hand up to where his lips would be if it weren’t for the wolf mask. “I promise.”

And then he was gone, the shadows of the woods swallowing him up like ink spreading over parchment.

* * *

Lotor and his soldiers arrive at the gates of Shirogane Manor two months after Lance did. To Hunk, Allura, and the others’ credit, they look like they have been expecting the newly appointed Earl for quite some time, and brush Lance’s apologies away.

“You’re under our Lord’s protection,” Keith tells him. “Which means you’re one of ours, now.”

At Lance’s side, the wolf lets out a growl. His hackles are raised and his silver eyes are locked on the doors, ready to strike at any moment.

“And this spoiled brat of an Earl is fooling himself if he thinks he can just take you from us without a fight,” says Pidge, cracking her knuckles.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m the reason he’s here now,” Lance points out. “Let me go talk to him, see if I can negotiate—”

“Lance, darling,” Allura interrupts him, voice crackling with magic. “Let us handle this.”

Then, with a grand sweep of her hand, the doors of the Manor swing open. Lotor steps over the threshold a moment later, flanked by half a dozen guards. His sharp eyes land on Lance immediately and he smiles.

There is nothing welcoming about it. “My love,” he drawls in a sickly sweet tone, “Don’t you think this wild goose chase has gone on long enough?”

“I’m not _your_ anything,” Lance scowls.

Lotor’s lips twist into an ugly sneer. “I’m afraid my contract with your family says differently.”

Before Lance can do something ill-advised like curse him so all his hair falls out, Allura steps forward. “If it’s reparations you’re looking for, then Lord Shirogane will be more than happy to pay it.”

Lotor’s face darkens. “The Shirogane family was massacred two years ago—everyone knows that. And even if they weren’t and you _could_, I don’t give a damn about your _money_.” He turns back to Lance with a vicious glare. “I came for my witch and I’m _not_ leaving without him.”

Of course. It’s Lance’s magic he wants.

“Until you get my cold, dead body to the altar, I’m not anyone’s,” Lance spits out, already summoning a ball of energy in his palm.

Lotor scoffs, “That can be arranged.”

Several things happen at once.

One of Lotor’s warriors shimmers into existence on the banister right in front of Lance and takes a swipe at him with their sword. Keith yells something incoherent and charges towards them with his own sword drawn, but Lance knows it’s too late. Lance watches, frozen, as the iron blade, one of the most dangerous weapons known to mages, moves closer and closer towards his body. Even if it doesn’t kill him, one nick of the sword can be just as fatal as a stab to the heart.

A black blur darts in front of him just before the blade can make its mark and the next thing Lance knows, he’s on the floor, Hunk’s great bulk crouched over his body. He hears Keith struggle with the soldier and peers up just in time to catch Keith pushing them off the banister, followed by a sickening ‘_crack!_’ rending through the air. Allura is running down the stairs, shouting spell after spell. Meanwhile, Pidge and Matt—

—they’re tending to the wolf that had just saved Lance’s life.

“Lance! Wait!” Lance ignores Hunk as he pushes himself back up to his feet and rushes to the wolf. Worry engulfs him like ice over a river. He knows it’s just a _wolf_, but something in his heart is screaming that he cannot let the creature die.

The wolf is lying prone on his left side, a torrent of blood spilling from the ugly gash on his right foreleg, just below where his shoulder must be. He lets out a heartbreaking whine when Lance tries to soothe him. “It’s going to be okay,” he chokes out, even though he knows the iron will kill the wolf before the blood loss does.

But he can’t just sit back and do _nothing_.

Summoning every ounce of magic he has in his body, he runs his hand down the wound, murmuring the strongest, oldest healing spell he knows. The wolf cracks his silver eyes open and watches Lance as he works.

Lance can hear Allura, Keith, Hunk, and now Pidge fighting to keep Lotor’s forces at bay as he works. Next to him, Matt is tearing off his cape off and wrapping it around the wolf as best as he can. He never takes his eyes off the wolf and neither does the wolf.

For all Lance knows, hours—or even days—pass before he utters the final words of the spell and, feeling his magic drain out of him like an overflowing dam, has to steady himself against the cold marble floor with his free hand.

Then, the talisman around the wolf’s neck pulses once before enveloping them in a blinding blue light, bringing the fight around them to an abrupt halt. Lance shields his eyes.

The light recedes almost as quickly as it had appeared, and Lance lowers his arm.

The first thing he notices is that the wolf is gone. The second thing he notices is that there is a man lying on the floor where the wolf had been. The man turns his head to meet Lance’s gaze—his eyes are silver.

_Twin moons_, Lance thinks, dazed, before exhaustion drags him into darkness.

* * *

When Lance wakes up, he’s back in his room in the Manor. Shiro—because it _has_ to be Shiro, even with the white hair and scar—is sitting by his bed, watching him with those lovely inhuman silver eyes of his.

“So, you’re a wolf,” Lance croaks, throat scratchy. Just how long had he been out?

Shiro hands him a cup of water from his bedside table. “Technically, I’m a werewolf.”

_Well, that explains all of grandmother’s tales about the Shirogane family and the beasts they commanded._ “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shiro drops his gaze to his hands. “Two years ago…my family was attacked by another pack,” he begins.

_There was an attack about two years ago_, Hunk had said.

Two years ago, Lance was sixteen. Two years ago, he attended his village’s annual masquerade dance.

Two years ago was the last time their village heard the Shirogane wolves’ song. Everyone assumed that they had either fled or been killed.

“We managed to drive them out of our territory, but even after giving everything we got…it wasn’t enough,” says Shiro. “Keith, Allura, Hunk, Pidge, Matt, and I—we were the only survivors.

“Sendak had a witch with him. She cursed me just before she died—trapping me in my wolf form.” Shiro’s lips tug into a smile; it isn’t a happy one. “At least she was kind enough to let me know that the only way to break the curse was through ‘the consummation of a mating bond’.”

Several things click into place in Lance’s head, but there are still far more gaps than he’s comfortable with. “So, I’m your mate now? But how?”

Shiro’s eyes drop to Lance’s left wrist, to his handkerchief, now bloodied. “Apparently, witch magic isn’t as hung up on formality as human conventions are.” Shiro grips the talisman around his neck with his left hand.

Lance’s eyes dart to his right arm—it hangs slack by his side, blackened from the fingers all the way to his bicep. A ring of runes, probably Allura’s doing, is drawn just below his shoulder in blood—_Shiro’s_ blood, most likely—which seems to be keeping the sickly blackness at bay.

“I gave you that as a favour two years ago,” says Shiro, still eyeing the handkerchief. “And then…”

“…I gave you the talisman and healed you with my magic,” continues Lance, understanding dawning on him. The exchange of tokens as a promise of marriage is rare nowadays, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still have power, power as old as magic itself.

“You still haven’t told me why you kept me in the dark,” says Lance.

Shiro hunches his ridiculously broad shoulders up to his ears, looking like a child being scolded by his parents rather than the tree of a man he really is.

“I didn’t want to pressure you into something you hadn’t agreed to,” says Shiro. “You didn’t know who I was and we’d only met twice.”

“I waited for you,” Lance blurts out. Shiro bolts up in his seat to stare at him, slack-jawed. “I waited every day at the edge of the woods for you to come back, but you never did.” Lance clenches his fists. “Before I knew it, it was my eighteenth birthday and my wedding was coming up, so I got fed up and went looking for you instead.”

“I’m sorry.” Shiro reaches out with his left hand, hesitates, and places it on top of Lance’s. His grip is as warm as it was when he led Lance out of the woods eight years ago. There are new callouses and scars on his skin, though, but it doesn’t take away how handsome he is now. “Believe me, there’s nothing I wanted more in the last two years than to come back to you, but…” His Adam’s apple bobs twice. “…But the last thing I wanted was to tie you to me without your consent.”

_Too late for that, my fate was pretty much decided since the day I met you_, Lance thinks, fondness warming him.

Neither of them says anything for a few heartbeats, digesting Shiro’s words, until Lance clears his throat. “What happened to Lotor?”

Shiro’s lips curl into a smug smirk that does _things_ to Lance’s body. “Let’s just say…Allura and I made him see reason.” At Lance’s raised eyebrow, he elaborates, “He may be an Earl now, but I’m still a Duke and my family has had the King’s ear for generations. Trying to interfere with our...betrothal…would not have ended well for him and he knew it.”

Lance nods and doesn’t prod him for further explanation. “So, we’re officially mates now?” he says instead.

“If you want to be,” Shiro tells him, voice going soft. “Now that Lotor isn’t a problem anymore, you can go back home. And you’ll continue to have my protection.”

Lance snorts and flips their hands over to curl his fingers over Shiro’s. “You think I’m gonna just _leave_ now that I’ve finally got you? Think again.”

Shiro’s face is practically glowing.

* * *

_You must never run with wolves_, Lance’s grandmother had once told him. _Once they’ve sunk their claws into you, you’ll never come back home._

“Maybe not,” Lance whispers to himself as he stares out over the restored grand hall of Shirogane Manor, where his family and the entire village of Baku have gathered to celebrate his and Shiro’s wedding. “I just found a new home instead.”

Next to him Shiro, squeezes his hand. Neither of them let go for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> (title taken from the lyrics of _Kingdom In My Heart_ by The Glorious Sons)
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated! And please feel free to yell at me on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/britomarttis)!


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